Killing time

Dirk decided that it was about time for another drink and headed back to the
Parrot's. As he walked down the Promenade, he noticed a golf cart piloted by
Dren moving towards him. Dren had Darla in a headlock and was shouting
something behind him. Dirk noticed two security guards in a golf cart in "hot
pursuit" of Dren. He did an about face and began to jog along side of Dren's
cart. "What in the hell is going on?" Dirk asked.
"I'll do it! I'll...!" Dren's attention moved towards Dirk. "Oh, hi. Just
trying to keep from being arrested for the third time."
"What is it this time?"
"The same thing as last time, and something else that can't be proven. Man, I
thought this place was a JMC ship, not Nazis Germany. I've got to get these
stormtroopers off my ass."
"Want a beer?" Dirk handed Dren a can that he had been nursing on his way to
the Parrot's. Dren took the beer and kicked it back.
"Thanks. Now, if you would pardon my rudeness, I think I'm going to lead these
bozos to the collectables shop. There are lots of nice shiny coins and rocks to
divert their attention. See ya." Dirk stopped. As Dren continued on he
returned to his previous insults, "You'll never take me alive, pigs!"
Dirk returned to his journey to Parrot's. As he was entering, a girl was being
carried out by a guy and another girl. He noticed the sober girl as the cleaner
who had given him a nasty look about a month before for tossing paper on the
floor. "Some people just shouldn't drink," he said as the three disappeared
downt the corridor. At that he entered and got completely smashed himself.
He had been there, pretty much alone(he hadn't made too many friends on board).
Maybe it was all the contact that he had had with Dren over the past month, but
the performing bug hit him. He walked up on stage and had a look around. An
electric guitar was propped up in a dark corner, probably long forgotten. He
plugged it in and tuned it, to the best of his drunken ability, and stepped up
to the mike. "This is a really old one that my grandfather taught me." He
began to play and mutter some words that were only now and again heard by the
few in the bar. But when he hit the chorous, he belted the lyrics out loud and
clear. "I'm goin' straight to Hell. Just like my mama said. I'm goin' straigh
to Hell."
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